Chapter 18: Mountain Stream

Three girls, three cameras...

And me, tagging along, superfluous but certainly enjoying myself. I offered to be their model a few times, but they seemed to prefer photographing each other. And there was the teasing, of course. Endless.

“Nice, Muireann!” Heather chirped. “You’ve learned a lot about photography, I can tell.”

“She has a good eye,” Shannon agreed.

“Matt has been teaching me.”

“Which makes it all the more surprising!”

Funny... But even there, I was given three cute grins, so I couldn’t really complain.

After a long and intermittent hike through the woods, we ended up at the upper pool, where we took a rest.

“Have you been swimming much?” Heather asked.

“Just Lara and Tommy have, a few times,” I replied.

“I’ve not been in,” Muireann added.

“Too cold for you?” Heather asked her.

“Far too cold!”

“Too bad. I think we need a picture of someone in the pool,” Heather said.

“Then you’ll have to come back in June,” Muireann quipped. “I will not be swimming here any time soon.”

We all laughed, and then Heather turned her gaze to me.

“Um...” I deflected.

“Come on,” she urged. “There’s some potential here for a cool shot.”

“It’s pretty cold today, Heather!”

“You know you have to suffer for your art,” she joked.

“Yeah, come on, Matty, get in the water!”

I looked at Muireann for support, but she just giggled and shrugged.

“You three are terrible,” I said, even as I untied my shoes.

“You’ll really getting in, are you?” Muireann asked, perhaps feeling bad for not saving me when she could.

“Three against one, so I have to. I’d hate to get attacked. Or wait, was it choked?”

The three girls were soon discussing options while I took off my coat and sweatshirt, figuring that was enough disrobing.

“As soon as I’m out of the water I’m sprinting home, so you all can grab the rest of my stuff.”

“Sure thing, Matty.”

“All right, come down here by the stream,” Heather called.

I stepped down the slope a dozen feet.

“Get down on the ground, lying in the stream,” she commanded.

I gave her a dubious look. “Really?”

“Yeah. Like you’re crawling up toward the pool.”

“Like a creepy lizard,” Muireann added, almost apologetically.

I grinned. “Wow, Muireann, I thought at least you would be a bit more understanding!”

“Sorry!” she chirped apologetically. “But we might as well get something interesting if you’re to do this.”

I considered the situation, and then laughed. “All right, here goes. This is fucking weird, but if it’s what you want...”

I laid myself down in the stream bed, and water began spilling around me in greeting. It was warm enough, being still so close to the pool.

“All the way down,” Heather issued.

I heard the occasional clicking of cameras and quiet discussion. More orders were issued, and little by little I crawled and slid myself up the streambed toward the little dam that held back the pool. Every now and then I held my breath and laid fully in the flowing water. As my clothes saturated, my back started getting cold even as my front was warm from the flowing waters. It was a strange sensation, but tolerable.

Eventually I got to where I could put my hand into the edge of the pool, splashing the surface there. More photos were taken.

“Starting to freeze here!” I called out, since I was a bit more exposed on this steeper section.

“Get in the pool, then,” Shannon said.

I got up and quickly lurched over the dam to splash into the warm waters. It felt heavenly after sliding across the hard stones of the brook. I landed belly down, and I floated that way for as long as I could. I expelled all my air, surprised at how long I was able to hold out. I opened my eyes for the hell of it, but could only make out a faint glow.

Click...

Then I rolled over, breathing again, my eyes closed. I’d missed swimming in my little pool, I realized, even if it felt ridiculous to be in it with my clothes on.

Lazily I spun around, warmth working itself back into my tissues from outside in. The thought of running back to the house in the subfreezing air was becoming less appealing by the minute.

Maybe I’ll just float here forever ... Such peace...

A long time passed and then abruptly I swallowed water. Not because I’d sunk down, but because some clown had splashed me. I didn’t even have to look to know Heather was crouched by the edge of the pool, her hands cupped, her face amused.

“You better treat your models better in the future,” I spluttered as I found my footing, “Or they’ll stop working for you.”

“I’m not worried,” she quipped. “I make sure my model gets paid very well!”

Shannon tittered as I felt even more warmth course through me, particularly to the area of my face. Maybe my middle, too. I wiped the water from my eyes as I sank down up to my neck to keep the cutting air at bay.

“Are we done?” I called.

Heather looked at the girls, who shrugged. “Off you go!” she chimed at me.

I gathered myself and then climbed out on the muddy beach. I wasted no time in hurrying down the slope, hoping I wouldn’t step on anything too sharp. But even if I did, the pain would be a mere shadow of the needles that now started pinching me. The winter air was merciless, quickly recruiting the water in my clothes to switch teams from warm to cold.

By the time I reached the cabin, I was shivering, and the hem of my shirt was starting to freeze into a hardened ring. I burst through the door, scaring the crap out of Lara and Tommy, who were seated at the table.

“Jesus, Matt! What the hell? And why are you wet?”

“They made me swim!” I yelled as I raced to the bathroom and turned on the shower. “Tell Heather to get me some clothes from my room, when she gets back!”

I closed the door and jumped into the water, relief at last.

Suffer for your art... Easy for Heather to say, when she was the one behind the camera, bundled in her warm coat! And wrapped in her brand new scarf, come to think of it!

After recovering control of my body from the grip of shiver and twitch, I managed to peel the rest of my clothes off, not an easy feat when wet.

The voice was quiet when it came. “Do you want to get paid now, or later?”

I opened my eyes, finding Heather’s face peeking in from around the shower curtain. She looked me over, grinning.

“Where is everyone else?”

“Here in the cabin. We’re going to develop some shots.”

“They know you’re in here?”

“Sure.”

“Then I’ll take my payment later. Too obvious otherwise.”

“Yeah, they’d be shocked to hear that we fool around sometimes...” Heather said, rolling her eyes and sliding the curtain closed.

I stepped over to peek out at her. “Don’t worry, you’ll get what’s coming to you,” I quipped. “But you’ll have to wait!”

She shook her head and then left the bathroom. I spent another five minutes in the warmth, and then turned off the water. As I stepped out onto the floor mat, I looked around and then groaned.

I dried off, wrapped the towel around my waist, and opened the door. The darkroom was closed, and I heard quiet talking and some laughing. Lara and Tommy were still at the table and they looked my way.

“Did you tell Heather about my clothes?” I asked.

“Yep, twice!” Lara replied, grinning mischievously. “But she just went into the darkroom.”

“For fuck’s sake. Now what?”

“Beats me!”

I hesitated and then knocked on the darkroom door.

“Busy!” Heather called.

I heard more giggling. I jiggled the handle.

“Hey, stop! We’re developing film!”

I wasn’t going to open it, of course. The first rule of darkrooms...

“Where are my clothes!” I yelled.

“We put them on the couch.”

I looked, seeing only my coat and sweatshirt there, with my shoes and socks on the floor. What an outfit that would make...

Then again, I wasn’t about to run down to the house in my towel, not when I’d just gotten warm. And not when all the adults were down there.

Ah, fuck it...

I grabbed my sweatshirt and slipped it over my head, made sure my towel was tucked in tight, and then marched back toward the darkroom.

“Do you want me to get you some clothes?” Lara asked sympathetically.

I paused near the table. “Nah. This’ll work for now. For whatever reason, I’m being fucked with today.”

“Only today, lad?” Tommy asked, far too amused.

“Heh, Tommy, I see you’re catching on to Heather pretty quick.”

“Indeed I am!”

“Are you two still working on the English thing?” I asked.

“Naw, we’re finished with that,” Tommy replied. “It’s Lara’s new song, now.”

“Nice ... A ‘new’ new one? Or is Shell Game still new?”

“A new one. It’s kind of based on the English essay,” she added.

I frowned. “What was the assignment about again? I already forgot.”

“Ooh, your Sunday night is going to be long,” Lara said knowingly.

I grunted in disgust. “I’m trying not to think of it. They should make assignments over break illegal.”

Tommy guffawed. “Aye, let’s start a petition for that, lad.”

“Now we’re onto something!”

“You’re supposed to write a letter when you’re old, to your younger self,” Lara reminded me.

“Oh, right...” I looked down at my state of dress. “Hmm ... Actually, I think I just wrote my essay. It’s going to say: ‘Dear Matt. Don’t let girls convince you to do stuff. The end.’”

Lara and Tommy found this quite amusing, even as the voices in the darkroom laughed as well, but surely for other reasons.

“Who knew developing film was so damn funny?” I said. “Anyway, I want to hear your song, but later. I better get in there and restore some order.”

“You’re going to restore order?” Lara drawled dubiously.

“I’m going to try.”

“Good luck,” Lara said, a useless thing to say.

I gave her a face.

“And don’t let them convince you to do stuff!” Tommy added.

“Good advice. And if you hear desperate knocking, please save me?”

The darkroom door opened noisily.

“Anyone want in before we do the next roll?” Shannon called out.

I slipped inside just as the door started swinging closed. All three of them grinned as they eyed me.

“I appreciate you putting on the latest in terrycloth fashion for pictures,” Shannon said, giving me the once-over, “but we’re probably done shooting for today!”

“Someone was supposed to get me some clothes! But whatever. You all have to look at this mess, not me, so I don’t care. Get any good shots?”

“We still have to develop a few more rolls before we look,” Heather said. “Shan, is your roll next?”

“Sure,” Shannon replied.

“I wouldn’t mind the practice,” Muireann said to her. “If you trust me with your film!”

“Of course I do! Matty, kill the lights, will you?”

I did so, and soon I could hear Muireann working the developing tank. From the sound of it, she was getting quite adept at it.

I guess I should have expected what happened next, but for some reason I didn’t. It’s a wonder I didn’t call out in surprise, actually. Somehow Heather had snuck over to my position and was now kissing me rather sweetly. Far too sweetly for someone wearing a towel skirt that would make certain things impossible to hide. I pulled away, quietly so that we’d not arouse suspicion. But she was insistent.

Whoa, easy now!

“Heather, how many rolls did you shoot today?” Muireann asked, her disembodied voice coming from the bed where she still worked the canister.

Oh great. Now they’ll know she’s over by me...

I tried to pull away from the kiss, but she pressed against me, bumping the table.

“Just one roll,” Heather replied.

What the...

My insides exploded at these words, a fiery prickle spreading across my entire body. Not because Heather had been reserved in her use of film, and certainly not because Heather’s change of position had been revealed. In fact, it was the exact opposite: her voice had sounded out from the other corner of the room! And even as she’d answered, I was still being kissed.

I remained frozen, utterly shocked even as the lips mashed against mine yet again. But it was Heather kissing me, I was certain of it! I ventured a hand to her shoulder. Yeah... She was the right height, the feeling, everything ... But maybe I was confused. Had Heather set me up with Shannon? It was inconceivable! Not when she was with Colin! She’d never ... I must have misheard the voice. These silly girls are tricking me.

“I’ll do your roll next, if that’s okay,” Muireann was saying calmly.

“Sure thing,” Heather agreed, still far from me.

No, that’s definitely her voice!

The anxiety seemed to spin out of control now.

“What the hell?” I blurted out, stepping back into the corner of the room. But the invisible form followed me, still! I almost turned on the lights, but the second rule of darkrooms prevented me from doing so, even under this extreme circumstance.

“What’s wrong, Matty?” Shannon asked.

What the fuck?

Now I was utterly stupefied. Her voice came from Heather’s corner as well, and the mysterious kisser was clinging to me once more, arms around me, mushing her lips all over my neck. I pushed the stranger away forcibly, and this time she took the hint and didn’t return. My heart started pounding as I stood there alone, disoriented in the dark, trying to rebuild a timeline of everyone’s movements. There was only one explanation.

There has to be a fourth person here! Is it Julie?

Then I realized it. Oh god ... Alana? Shit... Alana could easily pass for Heather even in decent light, and certainly so in complete darkness.

“What the hell is going on!”

“What are you freaking out about?” Shannon persisted, though I was detecting some deep undercurrent of amusement in her voice now. “Is there a spider in here or something?

Muireann squealed in fright at this.

“Heather!” I called.

“Yeah?” she replied, still from the opposite corner.

“Who ... was—who was just kissing me!” I cried, feeling a bit desperate.

“Kissing?” Muireann said, thoroughly shocked, though maybe it was as fake as the fright. “Matt!”

“Yeah, um ... What are you talking about?” Heather asked. “You’re kidding right? Was one of you two really just kissing my boyfriend?” she demanded, her voice sharp.

“Not at all!”

“He’s messing with you, Heather,” Shannon said.

“Can I turn on the lights?” I pleaded. “Are you done with the film yet, Muireann!”

“Having some trouble,” she replied, unable to suppress a giggle.

“What the fuck is going on!”

Restore order ... Whatever, fool.

I listened carefully to the laughing that was spiraling more and more out of control, trying to figure out how many voices there were. Three...

“Okay, I give up! Tell me what’s going on!”

There were some clicking sounds, and then I heard Heather speak.

“Sure thing,” she said.

It sounded odd, though. In fact, it was ... identical to her earlier utterance.

A moment later, Heather repeated herself.

“Sure thing.”

I groaned as the mists suddenly cleared. “Oh, are you fucking kidding me?”

“Sure thing.”

The girls fully lost it now.

“Sure thing.”

“Muireann!” I barked. “Are you done?”

“I never started!” she managed.

“Damn it!”

I slapped at the wall until the lights came on full blast. After making sure Alana wasn’t indeed there, I moved straight toward the other corner, squinting, ignoring the clowns nearby, and clicking the eject button on the boom box. In another second I snatched out the recordable cassette that they’d used to pull this trick on me.

“And he’s still in his towel!” Heather tittered, pointing at my legs as they all continued to find great amusement in the whole thing.

“I swear, you three are banned from hanging out without supervision!” I cried, tossing the tape down to the table with a clatter. I marched back toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Muireann asked.

At least there’s a hint of sympathy in her voice.

“I’m going to get some real clothes on.”

“Oh no! But then ... who will supervise us?” Shannon asked, barely coherent enough to get the words out.

I turned and gave them a stern look, but they couldn’t see it through the tears. Which was good, because my expression was challenging to maintain since I was on the verge of laughing myself. But I managed it. Then I left the room. The laughing only got worse.

“More material for your essay?” Lara asked ever so evenly, as I walked past the table.

“Enough for a whole fucking book now,” I grumbled. “I’m going to ace this assignment, that’s for damn sure.”

I grabbed my coat and went to get changed, as the laughter all around me continued to multiply.

It was interesting how different the three photographers’ photos of me turned out, even if they were all shooting the same scene. Muireann’s were mostly close-ups, picking up small details of me lying in the stream, almost more focused on the rocks and natural elements than my body. Shannon had used her ND filter and a tripod to get the water to blur out, forming a strange ghostly shell around me that looked plastic. And Heather’s shots had a voyeuristic and otherworldly feeling to them.

“Did you climb a tree?” I asked her, surprised at the overhead angles of her last couple of frames.

“Yup,” she replied.

“I didn’t even notice.”

“Why would you? You had your eyes closed.”

Her last print was just starting to form up in the developer tray. We huddled at the table, watching the image emerge in the faint red gloom. It was a shot Heather had taken from her high perch, looking down on the pool as I’d floated there face down. The shot was foggy, likely from her use of a strong diffusion filter. My body was in the lower corner of the frame, and almost included as if by afterthought. The trees in the glen dominated the majority of the photo. Spindly foreground branches seemed to cradle the scene.

As the photo materialized from the white paper, I shivered. A very odd moment of déjà vu coursed through me, causing me to almost lose my balance.

I look like I’m...

“That’s...” Muireann began.

“It’s like a crime scene photo,” Shannon remarked. She added a laugh, but it was rather half-hearted.

Heather transferred the print to the next tray.

“I can’t look at that,” Muireann muttered, moving to sit on the bed.

“Why not?” Heather asked.

“It’s morbid. Freaky, him floating there like that.”

“He’s still alive,” Heather remarked. “I know, because I was just kissing him earlier!”

That did lighten the mood a touch, but the photos did have a rather grim feeling to them that had certainly calmed the earlier foolishness.

“I know,” Muireann said. “But it’s not easy to look at that, without thinking about ... sad things.”

“We’re all going to die eventually,” Heather said matter-of-factly, to which Muireann gave a sharp little gasp.

“Heather,” I warned. “Come on.” I moved to sit on the bed beside Muireann, still slightly woozy myself.

“It’s true, though,” Heather went on. “Photographs sometimes make you think of things you don’t want to think about. Nothing wrong with that. It can let you get more comfortable with what you’re afraid of.”

“Aye, and I see what you mean, but still.”

“And you can always just tell yourself he’s going for a swim,” Heather suggested.

“Not with that photo, Heather,” Shannon said. “I’m with Muireann. It’s a bit too ... something.”

The print moved into the rinse tray. Only Heather remained at the table now.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I think you look very peaceful, Matt. Weren’t you?”

“Well, yeah. It was warm and it did feel good to float there. But that’s because I wasn’t actually dead!”

“I know. But nothing in the photo is freaking out. Everything is chill, the water, the trees...”

Heather pulled the print out and let it drip, before clipping it onto the drying wire.

“Come on, look one more time,” she urged. “If you still hate it, then I’ll burn it outside.”

We stood as Heather brought up the lights. For a time no one said anything.

“Look at it without any ideas about what you think it is,” she murmured. “Let go of what you associate with a body floating face down. Just look at the image for what it is. No future, no past. Get into the scene, just by itself.”

Muireann and then Shannon took a moment to examine the print, and then stepped aside, talking quietly. I moved in and tried to do as Heather asked. The feeling of discomfort intruded again and again, but as I fended it off, the photo slowly seemed to transform itself. Soon the scene started exuding a vast sense of calm. The trees seemed to be slowly growing, and I could have sworn my body was spinning slowly in the black pool. I moved closer to the photo, looking right at the center where the trees beckoned, and suddenly...

My body ... it disappeared? But no, it was there again, some strange optical illusion, or mysterious blind spot ... I staggered backward, as that moment of déjà vu surged back again. It was a bit unnerving and certainly strange how familiar things suddenly felt, even though I’d never been in my darkroom with Shannon, Heather, and Muireann before. Not at the same time, anyway.

I shook it off and sat on the bed again. “I like it,” I said quietly. “I am still alive. And heck, if I do have to die some day, I’d much rather end up in the pool, surrounded by trees, rather than in a hospital or some car wreck or whatever.”

I heard Muireann murmur beside me, even as Heather found my hand and squeezed it.

“But all right,” I said, more energetically. “Maybe we should quit and go eat dinner or something, because I’m starving. Dying is hard work!”

“So,” Heather said, once the scoffing and giggling subsided. “Burn it? Or not?”

“No, of course not. It’s a really cool shot,” Shannon said. “Just uncomfortable to look at, but that doesn’t mean it’s bad.”

“Aye, don’t burn it, Heather. I’m sorry I was down on it.”

“Don’t be sorry! I totally get not liking it. And of course, it’s not like I want Matt to die.”

“Says the girl who almost gave me a heart attack with the kissing prank...”

The girls giggled at that, and Heather pulled the print off of the line.

“This was really fun today,” she said, even as she started ripping the photo into smaller and smaller pieces.

“Why are you tearing it up?” Muireann gasped, her face shocked.

“Time to move on.” She deposited the confetti into the trash bin and gave us a grin. “Thanks for tolerating my bizarre ideas, girls. I had a good time today.”

Murmurs of agreement accompanied us out into the main room. Tommy and Lara were on the couch when we emerged, him with his guitar in lap.

“Who wants to hear a song?” Lara asked. “I mean, we’re still messing with it, but we have a basic version worked out.”

Of course we wanted to hear it, so we did. As I listened to the lyrics, I had to smile wistfully. Lara likely had no idea what we’d been talking about in the darkroom, but somehow her song followed along on the same theme. Maybe it was just coincidence, the English essay topic focusing her thoughts on what it might be like to get old ... Or maybe it was just the way of things, all our currents flowing together as usual.